#part zero

[interstellar-comic]

[PART ZERO: "REBIRTH”]

PART ONE ->

[abybweisse]

Ch212 (p0), Cover and title pages

Now that I have my own copy from Kobo.

[sleepy-shutin]

Hello! You mentioned using the BASK method for tracking parts. Would you mind expanding on that? It sounds really useful!

the BASK model of dissociation refers to a paper that braun wrote on how you can track different parts in both DID (then MPD) as well as PTSD and general dissociation, basically.

To apply it to DID, it basically looks like this:

B: Behavior. How does this dissociated part's behavior differ from the rest of the system, if at all? (i.e. Being a more logical part vs. a more emotional and creative part)

A: Affect. How does this part's expression or feeling of emotion differ from the rest of the system, if at all? (i.e. Feels but cannot physically express anger, feels and physically expresses anger, cannot not feel and does not physically express anger)

S: Sensation. How does this part's feeling of physical sensation, or sensation of self and the world around them, differ from the rest of the system? (i.e. How do they feel pain, do they themselves feel real and/or connected to the world, etc)

K: Knowledge. What does this part know that may differ from the rest of the system? (i.e. Childhood memories, memories of work/school but not home, memories of home but not work/school, etc)

It can basically help you track patterns in your thought processes and behaviors over time that help you to track switches and parts over time. It's a part of the reason that journaling can help.

[lady-exophiliac-musings]

Monsterfucker Mansion: Intro

Note: This will be a multi-chapter work. Requests are wide open. Ask for a monster, and ye shall receive a fucking from it. ;)

This intro contains no sex, just some small worldbuilding and exploration. This story will include impregnation, and probably a lot of it, by all sorts of different exophilia crushes.

There's an old, abandoned building you know of. It's a far trip for you, but the rumors surrounding it are the most enticing things you've ever heard:

Anyone who goes in comes back out changed. In the case of all the women you've heard of, they come back out -- pregnant.

And not with human offspring.

Nervousness and disbelief had kept you away for years, constantly hedging over the validity of the claims and debating over the possible consequences of going there, yourself.

Lots of "what if" scenarios filled your daydreams and nighttime ponderings.

What if the rumors were true? What if you went there and met a vampire? What if you met a demon? What if you met an entire group of satyr brothers? What if a werewolf pack happened to visit it at the same time you did?

What if they fucked you silly and you came back home pregnant with some monster's baby?

How would you care for it? Would you care for it? Would you just go back after the birth and hand it off to the father? Would you keep it? What kind of mother would you be to a little half-demon or half-vampire or half-lycan? Was that even how it worked -- or would the baby take after its father fully?

Several years passed as you argued with yourself over this, constantly checking any reports you could find of continued activity in the abandoned mansion. Dozens of "interviews" were conducted in that time featuring people who'd claimed to have gone in, and they all had one thing in common:

Ecstasy.

They'd loved cavorting in that mansion with the creatures they'd encountered. And while there was nothing saying that they weren't just the lucky ones, that maybe hundreds had gone in and never returned at all, the very real possibility of you finding yourself at the mercy of a who-knew-what for a night and then returning home carrying its offspring was beyond tantalizing to you.

Eventually, you broke. You ventured to the mansion, opting to borrow a coworker's motorcycle for the trip to hide it easier once you got there. After all, you had no idea how long you were going to end up staying and you didn't want your vehicle to attract attention.

No, you'd much rather remain as anonymous as possible until the very end.

Giddy, you drive for well over four hours before finding the path leading into the spooky woods where the mansion waited. And, you soon discover, the path is notably worn by vehicle tread despite being a dirt road.

A lot of people had come here before you.

Even more excited, now, it's a little hard to focus as you continue down the road. By now you don't even need directions or your GPS; the road is so well-used it's obvious where you need to go.

Before long, the mansion comes into view.

And it is a mansion. The few images of the exterior you'd managed to scrounge up don't do it justice.

It's a massive building, four stories in the center and three for the two wings. The road winds left and right, giving you incomplete glimpses of it for a while, but it isn't hard to estimate that there's around fourty sets of windows on the front, implying numerous rooms on every floor.

It's definitely been damaged over the years, some windows badly boarded up and others visibly shattered. An overhang held up by columns create a wide front porch, and one of the columns has splintered and been semi-shredded in the middle. A set of stone stairs lead up to that porch, and chunks have been broken off from it.

Your heart's already pounding as you break free of the wooded area and follow the path as it curves up to the front of the building, a non-working three-tier fountain featuring a mermaid on a shell taking up a place of honor in front of it.

Giddy, you slow to a stop and remove your helmet so you can take a better look. No lights shine from within -- but, then, you'd expect that any monsters that frequent this place would probably be able to see in the dark. They wouldn't need the light.

Excitement hums in your veins. Was it twisted of you to find what comes next all the more appealing because you expect it to be scary?

Taking deep breaths to control the shaking in your core, you leave your helmet and riding jacket on the bike, stuff the keys in your pocket, and proceed up to the door.

It's ajar, you notice, as if inviting you to venture within.

You take out your phone and switch the flashlight on to illuminate the interior before you step inside, getting a lay of the land. After all, if it turns out this place was full of asbestos and tetanus, well -- that would be bad.

You want to get fucked by monsters, not diseases.

The area within is surprisingly clean, given the outward appearance. It's dusty, but more at the edges than anywhere else -- like it's been traveled quite frequently, you note. And there's a definite lack of broken or abandoned furniture as well.

Only a few pieces remain, and they're all visibly intact. A small table in the entryway with an attached mirror; a vintage sofa in a room to your left; a small dining table with a set of six chairs around it; a tall cabinet, empty within but the glass doors intact and clean of dust.

Someone had to be tending to this place, you realize, which means it definitely is occupied.

Now even more excited, you creep inside, the nervous part of you driving you to keep quiet just in case. It's stupid, maybe; you're here to get railed by the creatures that might be living here, yet your voice and actions are suppressed, caution and a constant feeling like you're being stalked forcing you to try and be stealthy.

Not even the recognition that you were definitely not ever going to be stealthy enough to avoid getting caught by monsters can halt the impulse for you to step quietly and avoid anything remotely wobbly.

Plus, you think, you are using your phone as a flashlight. If anything else is in here, it probably already knows that you are, too.

...Yet, disappointingly, nothing shows itself, not even after you've started to get a feel for the mansion's layout. It's a surprisingly intuitive design, actually. You feel like you don't get lost despite the size of it, able to follow the hallways, anticipate turns, and connect the three individual staircases you find without difficulty.

It becomes a secondary form of fascination to you. You even catch yourself testing your guesswork by finding your way back to the front door with increasingly roundabout paths and feeling impressed when you successfully locate it.

Still no monsters pop out at you, but by now you don't mind so much; you're having fun just exploring. And, at last, you decide to expand your search to the second floor, ascending the stairs.

...Every single room up here is, unequivocally, a fucking room.

The first one you find, nudging open the ajar door, takes you by surprise. It's a bedroom with a four-poster canopy, red velvet blankets, and a fur rug on the floor. A fireplace is situated against one wall with a desk and a 5-prong candelabra at another.

Oh yes, and there were leather cords with soft shackles affixed to each of the bed's posters.

A little stunned at the discovery, you move on to another room.

This one had a single mattress on the floor with a trio of pillows at the head and torn, bloody sheets tossed over it. Strangely, there was also a mini fridge in the corner, which -- when you checked it out of sheer curiosity -- was actively running and was full of various kinds of alcohol -- and ice cream.

A third room was dressed up nicely in pastel pinks and lace, including a vanity of pure white with gold trim, a mirror with lipstick kisses on it, and a large wardrobe across from the king-size, comfy-looking bed.

The next was a mixture of black and dark violet, everything styled in a leather-and-chains goth aesthetic, the window covered in heavy black drapes.

It went on and on. One room didn't have a bed, but rather a pile of soft fur blankets and throw pillows in front of a fireplace. Another was pristine and perfect, everything in white, black or grey and cut in sharp angles. The next was in rich blues and greens, a string of pearls embedded in the walls up at ceiling-level, the room itself notably colder than the others. Yet another was more rugged and worn-down, the floor scuffed, the walls scratched, everything in shades of brown, red and orange -- earthy, beastly, rough.

Things definitely were living here, you conclude, and there were a lot of them -- with vastly different styles and personalities.

Now if only you could figure out where the fuck they were hiding.

[literatelogan]

I NEVER SAID FRIENDS

part zero - introductions

masterlist | next

updates every other day @ noon CST

pairing - shota aizawa x gn!reader

genre - fluff, angst, humor

summary - it’s your first year teaching at u.a. high school and you would be lying to say you weren’t intimidated. school is months away from starting but principal nezu has taken it upon himself to set you up for success. all of the teachers will be helping you onboard but shouta aizawa has been assigned to be your mentor. he hates this but does he hate you? yes. will he stop hating you? maybe.    

a/n- in case it wasn’t obvious, defnotyn is y/n. hayouwish is midnight, donttalktome is aizawa, and listentometalk is present mic. y/n doesn’t follow any of them but they follow each other

[abybweisse]

Ch213 (p0), Cover and title pages

My Kobo order arrived by the time I had finished posting part 3. 😌

[sleepy-shutin]

just another thing that makes me feel incredibly alienated from the community: there’s a large focus on introjects, but only the palatable ones--fictional introjects--instead of abuser introjects or caretaker introjects. i have an introject of my mother. that is an incredibly terrifying experience that i don’t even know how to begin dealing with. i WISH i had advice for handling her when she comes near, even if she doesn’t come near very often, and yet, every single post about introjects is about fictional introjects.

why don’t we as a community talk more about introjects of abusers or caretakers? seriously. that is, clinically, the most common form of introject for a person to have, and yet people with abuser or caretaker introjects feel alienated in the community because the only kind of introject ever discussed are fictional ones. 

like, c’mon guys.

[sleepy-shutin]

i've been mad today. i made some memes about it.